Black Legacy
by Fragraham Lincon
Summary: An AU version of the events in Legacy of Darkness, written in the style of Victorian horror.
1. The outset

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Author's note: I've been away from fanfiction for a while but I'm glad to say I'm back and with better writing skills and a new story to go with them. This is sort of an alternate reality retelling of Castlevania Legacy of Darkness from Reinhardt's point of view. But you'll find events and characters vastly different as it changes from gothic action to a suspense thriller. I hope you enjoy. now on with the show.

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Castevania: Black legacy Chapter 1: The Outset 

  
  
Whomever is reading this, sir or madam allow me to introduce myself. I am known as Reinhardt Shneider and my profession is a rather strange and obscure one. I am an investigator of sorts. My services were purchased by the an aquaintance recently and off I set to what will most likely be the most memorable of assignments I've undertaken. The following is a record of the events occuring between October First and November 13th 1852.   
  
Friend I caution you against reading further if you are meek of spirit or have a tendancy to take ill, for the horrors I have witnessed would make the most pious man scream blasphemies. The memory still haunts me. Like ghosts inhabbiting the creases of my brains, it swirls around raking at me every moment. I feel the very knowledge shortens my life and may lead me to grow old before my time. As such I warn you, read no further, unless your cause for doing so be of dire importance.   
  
I supose it actually had its beginnings shortly after sunset in late september. I recieved a letter at my office in Berlin. I thought it strange that the post would run at such a late hour but then again i supose it could be seen as equally odd that I would still be working at such a late hour when most would be either ready to retire for the night or perhaps deeply ingrosed in a book if reading by lamplight were their inclination. I however due to the nature of my occupation often worked late into the night.   
  
But I digres. The letter was postmarked from Walachia from residence belonging to a DeRais familly. It read as follows.   
  
Dear Mr. Shneider   
  
I have interest in aquiring your unique services. It has taken me some time to locate you and the situation may be dire by the time you read this so I do hope you will hurry at haste to my residence. Attached you will find my address, A map to my home as well as directions and other information of the locale that may be useful to you. Upon your arrival I promise you reimbursement for your travel expenses. You see I feel that my very familly may be in danger from some ancient force that had owned this property in previous ages. I implore you Mr. Shneider do not let even a moment go to waste.   
  
Yours Truely Oldrey DeRais   
  
The letter while brief was desperate and the map provided thurough. I departed the next day via train taking the basics of my profession with me and notifying my partner Charlie Vincent of my assignment via a letter I placed on his desk during his absence. As he was on assignment at the time I will leave it to his choice whether he should follow or remain behind. Though in hindsight such a lengthy travel alone may not have been the best of ideas, I felt it urgent I depart without the slightest hesitation.   
  
The train ride was mostly uneventful. The clacking of this modern rattletrap was oddly soothing and helped my mind to wander away from anticipation and fear for what might lay ahead. I used this time well to rest my eyes which had grown heavy given the long day and night that had proceeded my departure. I am sure my dinner had long since gone cold and been given away. I would have to ask my lovely wife Rosa her forgiveness upon my return. Perhaps when Charlie arrives, to inform her of my departure, he will see to it that Rosa's cooking does not go to waste. He never was one to let anyone cook in vain.   
  
Time passed as my travels took me some way, but the interior of Transylvania required travel by stagecoach. In this old country modernization had not yet seeped into its darkest reaches. When I stepped from the train and began searching for a coach and driver that was willing to go the distance, I couldn't help but remark the drastic changes between the world I stepped away from in Germany and the world I walked into here in Transylvania. If one could imagin such a concept, it seemed the train had not only carried me across the expanse of land but also backward in time.   
  
Eventually I did hire out a stagecoach willing to take me as far as Veros, which he informed me is a small town nearest the D'Rais residence. He was not a short man but deffinately didn't reach my own stature. Upon greeting him in fact he commented on my hight. It reminded me of my mother's comment when I was a child, that I grew faster than the weeds in the garden. Ah, times long gone by. This however was not the time to reminisce.   
  
The coachman invite me into his cairrage. Two Hoarses pulled his cart. Not the hoarses of equestrians I might see in my home town, no these were hearty work hoarses, larger and heavier, than those one might normally see. They pulled a black painted coach, its color meant to hold in the warmth of the sun, to make the ride more pleasant for those who traveled in the frigid winter. If this old coachman truely did ride even in the bleakest days of the winter, it was obvious why he had such a long and wooly beard.   
  
The ride was rough but not unpleasant. The horses at least were swift, and the coachman's driving as confident, as his sense of direction was exact. I hoped I was spending DeRais's money well.   
  
It was several days travel even at this pace during which I studied the information Mr. Derais provided me carefully. I also spent some time in conversation with the driver He spoke in depth of his hometown of Veros in the walachia province and of old legends of a castle nearby in which evil spirits dwelled. Your average traveller to the land would probably listen only for the value of entertainment taking it in as no more than supersticion. I however gave careful attention. Although I must take each word with an ounce of skepticism I understood that old legends often had some truth at their roots.   
  
The Driver would tell me tales of epic battles between heroes of the church and a man who sold his soul to the devil, and of a prince of the old ages who deffended the country from turkish invaders. Of how he repelled wave after wave of those would be conquerers and of how his fearsome spirit still dwelled in this land leaving his legacy of blood and violence.   
  
Stories of the bloody prince ranged from depictions of a great hero to fables that would make this man's name synonymous with fear. The horrific atrocities he comitted, and his utter contempt for the sanctity of life chilled even an experianced supernaturalist like myself.   
  
It was the first of October that the stagecoach driver at last halted his progress at the tiny town of Veros, his very hometown. Aparently it was even closer to my destination than I expected. It was not marked on my map, though the coachman explained that Veros is never a place remarked on maps. It was a peculiarity that this town came in and out of existance throughout history. At various times near the turn of the century it would suddenly cease to be. Destroyed by fire, flood or abandoned entirely. But mid century as it was this town was bustling with human population.   
  
It was a small town that put on an air of an older time. It seemed as if the days of knights and crusades had never met its end here. These humble villaigers made their lives the same as had been done for centuries. I paid the stagecoach driver and he was on his way taking several passengers back with him. They seemed oddly egar to leave their homes though I know not why. Perhaps this was a result of the same dark force that had given DeRais such a scare. I thought I had best keep my guard up.   
  
After purchasing provisions for a day's travel by foot and a more comfortable pair of boots I double checked my directions with the locals. Allthough I was cautioned against going further I am the sort of man who's livelyhood goes against such warnings. It seems DeRais's residence was on an island across a vast lake and through what the locales reffered to as the forest of silence. I had rested long enough so I decided to proceed on my way despite the aproach of nightfall. I aquired an oil lantern to guide my way before my departure.   
  
The journey by foot would be uneventful. The path was roughly beaten though recently overgrown by wild grasses it was still visible. As I traveled further I took notice of how the moon had recently taken on a red hue. Though soon the moon would not be visible as the path lead me through woods who's branches would interweve to entirely block the sky from view leaving only my lantern to guide my way. I hadn't noticed before how crisp the air was this time of year. In fact I found my nose feeling the chill of the cool air of autumn. I could feel a chill air coming from the lake and the smell of water wafting in the air. It was uncomfortable to say the least traveling through the forrest on a chilled autumn night. More unnerving was the knowledge that I may have well been walking toward some form of evil.   
  
Beyond the reach of my latnerns light was only the walls of darkness, and the branches of leafless trees reaching out like the bony hands of an old man. While a modern logical man like myself should be able to hold off man's primitive fear of the dark, being alone in this place reminded me just how strong the primitive mind was still in all of us. The imagination runs wild when confronted with the unknown. Some horror just out of view, the thing one most fears, always remaining unseen. One wants to shine the light into the darkness to abolish such irationality. But I chose not to do so. I stayed on my path simply arguing myself down that nothing but the occasional owl prowled these woods. Still a part of me didn't want to shine my light for other reasons. The slightest off chance that such horrors that exist in our most terrible nightmares might actually be revealed. Mankind fears the unknown, but fears knowing what should not be known more than the lack of knowledge.   
  
I however abolished such irrationality from my mind. Best to save phillosophy for lectures and intelectual discussion. A strong mind does not let imagination run rampant over logic.   
  
Without any unpleasant occurances I found the lake though no clear means of crossing. Determined that there must be a bridge I began following the shoreline. The light of the full moon reflecting off the water despite the moon's crimson hue and, the murky nature of the lake, was a welcome departure from the consuming darkness of the forest. It wasn't long before I spotted a lantern much like my own in the distance. I thought at the time that it must be the mist off the lake that made it appear to glow green though I found no change in color as I came closer. Indeed upon my arrival I found his lantern did indeed glow a shade of green. The "he" I reffer to would be the old ferryman. His boat was small yet still sizable enough to carry himself and a passenger possibly two if necessary. He leaned on his oar as if it were a cane so i assumed he must be ancient though in truth all I could see of him was the cloak and hood which obscured every inch of his figure.   
  
He asked me to climb aboard and would take me across with no discussion of fee. As I'd yet sighted no bridge I took his offer assuming he must be an employee of Mr. Oldrey DeRais   
  
Across the lake he rowed us slowly but steadilly. In fact it was impressive how steady he rowed his boat. He handled his craft expertly. There must be some pride to the Transylvanians, as each performed his job so masterfully. It must be I thought more than a mere occupation to these people but a purpose for living.   
  
In time I would arrive on the island were already was obvious the ruins of a once great estate. I turned my head back to thank the ferryman but found he'd already left the premise. How he did so quickly is still a mystery to me. Still some time from sunrise I decided against subjecting myself to further travel through eiry forests especially as my lantern was running low of oil. The lakeside seemed peaceful enough so I covered myself in a blanket I kept in my pack and rested there keeping my cross and rosary atop my chest for good measure.   
  
There I would sleep until first light, or I confess two hours after first light and even then I was still feeling unrested though I resolved to awaken then and find the DeRais residence soon and hopefully would be able to rest further there.   
  
Putting my blanket away I made progress into the so called Forest of Silence. Trees of all kinds grew in the distance though steep outcroppings of rock prevented exploration, not that I desired to. Along the rocky areas were several wooden signs reading only "path" which lead me on my way. On occasion I would in the distance sight a statue or crumbled gate that was most likely once a majestic part of the castle which stood here.   
  
It was an arduous journey and more than once I nearly lost my footing to steep slopes that would have deposited me into the river below and I had no intention of swimming this day. I was happy to be traveling in the daylight despite a dense cloud cover that seemed to have moved in while I was sleeping. Like a theif in the night it came, with no prior warning. But i supose that is the nature of this season.   
  
At least it was well lit enough now to vanquish the ramblings in the back of my mind. Yet as the ficticious fears faded away I grew unnerved. I could sense, in the air truer evils. My hairs stood on end, as the air stank of mysticism, and arcane magics. My extra sense honed by years of investigating the haunted and cursed, I knew well the feeling of evil. The way it swam through the air and passed through a man raking through his innards, setting off a cold tingle in every fiber, was unmistakable. 


	2. Hell House

  
Castlevania: Black Legacy  
Chapter 2: Hell House  


  
  
At last I came to an aged castle drawbridge which seemed to have been refurbished into a working bridge for the residence I saw just ahead. A luxurious villa of three stories decorated with statues of lions and a fountain outside. I walked toward the ornately decorated door knocking with a heavy fist as the door was rather thick.   
  
The door creeked as it opened slowly Greeting me was a young woman...actually very young. Girl would be more apropriate a word in fact. She couldn't be any more than twelve but by the maid's uniform she wore and her behavior she clearly must have been a servant. I found her appearance strange though. Her eyes were a haunting red and her hair, I was sure must be a silvery hue of blond. Surely it's blue color must have been a trick of the light but I would later learn that this was indeed the color of the girl's hair.   
  
She bid me welcome politely. "Welcome sir to the D'Rais resicence. I assume you are the Mr. Shneider the mister and misses were expecting." she said. If this little girl were playing a joke on me she was doing a good job. At this point I was convinced she was indeed a servant.   
  
I stood at the doorstep as she pulled the door open and waited as she stood silently staring at me. I thought it would be rude to tell her but clearly she'd forgotten something important for supersticious men like myself. "Will you be coming in?" She finally asked me. "It is bad luck, young miss, to cross the threshhold of another's home before I am bid to enter." I replied. Smiling with humor the girl asked me to enter which I soon did.   
  
Soon after entering I looked around finding the entryway quite enormous. There were two levels immediately visible the upper most atop a grand staircase, over which hung a massive chandelier. It appeared to be made of carefully worked brass, surely it weighed a massive amount. I wonder how it got up there and for that matter how sturdy the cieling must be to support it. Surely a cieling supporting such a hefty load would remain standing come a week after armageddon.   
  
The young girl made her exit through a small door off to the side. I was soon after greeted by a woman I would assume to be of thirty or more years. She wore her hair up in a bun and was dressed in a maroon dress with a white collar and a green broach.   
  
"Would you be the Mr. Shneider we have been awaiting?" She asked me. "That I am Ma'am. I came as quickly as I could." I replied.   
  
"My husband will be glad to hear you have arrived. You look as if you have had a long and difficult journey though. Allow us to be your hosts while you rest."   
  
I walked up the stairway aproaching the woman. Lifting my burly body up the stairs in all its weight reminded my legs just how much walking they had done and my feet the unforgiving nature of the terrain. "I believe I will take you up on that offer miss...." I halted as I realized I had rudely gone without asking her name.   
  
"Mary D'Rais" she said thankfully sparing me having to interupt myself in order to ask. She with an ever light walk, barely producing any sound stepped off to the left and around the balcony.   
  
She lead me through a door which passed through an outside passage, roofed above and supported by stone pillars. Suspended in a shelf of soil were a row of hedges here on the second floor along the outside wall giving this particular walkway both the secure comfort of the indoors with the fresh air of the outside. I would have spent a moment to comment on the architecture had my mind not already retired ahead of my body.   
  
We passed through another door a short distance away where I found a magnificent indoor garden. The D'Rais familly certainly must be fond of plants I thought. THe room was circular with a magificent marble pillar standing at least three stories tall in the center. It was surrounded by a circle of rose bushes which was matched by a ringe of rose bushes around the walls of the room. At the top a glass dome and around the outside walls windows that stretched the full hight of the room. Normally I this room would be basking in the full glorious light of the sun, but today sadly was badly overcast and a sense of a coming storm in the air. Despite this the beauty of the place did not escape me. I would have to return here to admire it later.   
  
Another door opened and in my tired state I felt myself losing sense of direction. Thankfully the design of this residence was fairly linear so I hoped later I would not find difficulty in navigating. Now I was fully inside, a small entryway greeted me with various paintings. I immediately recognized that Misses Mary D'Rais was among them. I also noted a man slightly older, also dressed finely. Though his hair was thinning, he carried a dignity about himself. Oldrey D'Rais it read. The man who'd written me asking my aid.   
  
Also among the paintings were two young lads. A blond haired boy, who's picture was labeled Henry O. D'Rais, a younger and more strange looking boy, who's hair was the same strange blue shade as the girl I saw earlier, and his eyes a purple hue. It was Marked Malus D. (D'Rais). It was strange that his picture noted the D'Rais name differently. Perhaps comissioned by a different artist. Though as mary noticed me having halted my walk and standing slack jawed as if a schoolboy in my fatigue she politely volunteered an explanation.   
  
"The Blond haired boy is our son Henry. He's since grown into a fine young man, though he's moved away. The blue haired child is our adopted son Malus. He's still with us and you should meet him shortly. I'm sure you have many questions and Oldrey will be glad to tell you everything you need to know. My husband is a good man who loves our familly dearly. Even now he's researching our familly roots. But you should rest before I speak any further."   
  
I nodded in agreement. There was no sense taking in too much information in my half aware state, only to have it forgotten. She lead me up the stairs and into a hallway. To my left I spied a series of stained glass windows that looked more as if they belonged in a church than a private manner. To the left were a series of doorways. Mary lead me to the first inside which I sighted a number of ornate chairs, and on the far side of the room a bed that looked far finer than any I'd slept in.   
  
"Here is the guest bed. I hope you find it to your liking." Mary said sincerely.   
  
I nodded my head quietly. She stepped back toward the door and before closing poked her head through to say one last thing.   
  
"I will inform my husband of your arrival. He has been anxious as of late. I hope your arrival will put his mind at ease."   
  
The door closed, leaving me with silence. I would barely get my boots from my feet before I sell into restful sleep. What followed I still question its holding in reality.   
  
I stood among walls of stone painted over in white, that had faded over the age. Rusted iron doors hung half dismembered from their hinges as if some tremendous force had ripped them away.   
  
The age cracked walls were splattered in red and I paced through with an overwhelming sense of dread running through my body and mind. I took a chance to gaze through one doorway and found what looked to be a man, aparently mad with delirium beating his head against the wall bloody from the lengthy repetition of this action. His hair was frazzled and untamed, and he was wrapped in a white canvase coat covered in straps and buckles meant to retain him. A straight jacket it was called, something used to restrion individuals who'd gone so mad that they were a danger to themselves.   
  
I backed away and looked through the halls cautiously walking, and soon my walk became all out run. I felt I must flee this place though I had no idea which way would lead to freedom. Still these halls must end so I dashed franticly. I came to an abrupt stop as I tripped over something. Looking toward my feet I saw another individual much like the man I saw earlier, wrapped in straight jacket, but curled on the floor crawling along like a worm, seemingly not minding my collision with him. I pulled myself half up as I looked ahead and a saw a number more of these madmen.   
  
Three were gathered in a circle and aparently were thrusting their head into something. Aparently having noticed me one of them turned around and I gazed in horror at his...no IT'S Face.   
  
Lips and cheeks looked to have been removed by blade and and flame cauterized to expose the teeth making the creature's face nearly like a skull. and hanging in those teeth, two of which were elongated and sharpened to points, was what appeared to be a severed human limb.   
  
Both disgusted and terrified I scrambled to my feet, and then I glanced upward. Hanging by aparently nothing from the cieling was another creature. Its sharpened teeth snarled at me before it released its grip and dropped toward me. As i threw my hands in front of my face the world went black.   
  
I awoke in a cold sweat, still in the guest bedroom. Never had I experianced such a dream. What was it? Prophetic vision? Madness overtaking me? Perhaps it was the latent evil threatening to consume this place seeping its way into my brain that brought this about.   
  
Fortunately even the most memorable dreams fade from the mind quickly after the sleeper awakens and this was no exception. I brought my mind to more urgent matters and after pulling my boots back on I exited the guest room and took a look around.   
  
The blue haired servant child was quick to sight me and aproach inquiring if I needed anything.   
  
"Could you direct me to the master of the house?" I asked.   
  
She nodded and began to guide me down the hallway. While she did she took a moment to make small talk, her childish nature aparently taking dominance over her work. But it was excuesable as, she had aroused my curiosity, and left me with questions to be asked.   
  
"Mr. Shneider, is it true that you fight demons?" She asked me.   
  
"You could say that. I'm a super-natural investigator. It's an unusual occupation I know but what I'm here to do is find the power be it ghostly, magical, or what have you, that is threatening this place. And please call me Reinhardt. I've been called Mr. Shneider enough today. And might I ask your name young lady?" I responded.   
  
"It's Carrie Fernandez."   
  
"Fernandez. So you aren't part of the familly; but why is someone as young as yourself already working aparently independant of any familly. I haven't seen any other servants around here after all."   
  
"The D'Rais are very kind people. I'm just a gypsie but they didn't hold that against me. They took me in, and gave me an education. They tought me how to read and write, and about history, and math. I'm very greatful to the Mister and Misses."   
  
"I see. But why are you a servant here?"   
  
"Well I wanted to repay them somehow but I didn't really have a means to. I decided to work for them, but even though I owe them so much they still insist on paying me. The Misses said some people have old ways of thinking and it might not be easy for a gypsie to get married, so I should have a head start in making my own way in the world."   
  
"Ah I see. That's a very modern way of thinking."   
  
"Yes Mrs. D'Rais sometimes jokes that she proposed to Mr. Oldrey."   
  
I chuckled at the thought. I supose when you live in the middle of nowhere, you're free to develope your own ways of thinking. I've visited Lonon and even there things aren't so advanced in thinking, so it was surprising to find such concepts here in the old country. These D'Rais were admirable folk. I resolved to save them from the darkness by any and all means at my disposal.   
  
Carrie opened another doorway which I entered finding myself in a dining room with a lengthy table filling most of the room. On one end of the room was a massive mirror which clearly reflected the entire room. Cut roses were aranged in vases about it.   
  
Either the D'Rais had a lot of spare time or there was someone I'd not yet seen spending hours upon hours tending those rose bushes.   
  
Across the room from the door I entered via were two more doors. One clearly lead to a kitchen and the other, Carrie was aproaching. taking a key from a pocket in her apron she unlocked the door leading me in. Around I saw countless books, rows upon rows, almost an entire library. I assume from the arrangement that Oldrey must preffer to go straight to his books after a meal.   
  
Carrie walked down a short all lined with book shelves and opened yet another door, leading to a room filled with yet more books, this room I speculated was an expansion made later, as the architecture was much newer, perhaps the old study wasn't large enough to fit a well read man's taste for literature.   
  
Carrie spoke up calling through the room. "Mr. D'Rais, Your guest is here." I followed her round a corner but saw at the end of the room no one. Only a desk, a chair pulled away from it and a large book still laying open.   
  
"Mr. D'Rais?" Carrie said again seemingly confused.   
  
"I'm sorry I was sure he was here."   
  
It was confusing. I saw no obvious exits on this side of the room. Though through my hair I felt a chill breeze pass noticing a window was left open above. However I we were on the third floor and the window too high from the floor to reach normally. What kind of man would choose such an exit?   
  


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Author's note: At this point you're noticing a major divergence from the Legacy of Darkness storyline. While my original plan didn't involve the dream sequence, I had so many requests to use the asylum scene that I figured I'd throw a little something to the readers. Enjoy the insanity. 


End file.
